All the Wrong Things that Happened
by Suzume Suzuki
Summary: What if Mrs. White opened the door…and there standing was her son...? Based on the short story "The Monkey's Paw" by W.W. Jacobs. Warning: Rated M for gruesome, violent scene. Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me.
1. Part One

"Oh, it's our son! Our dear, lovely boy! Herbert is alive; he's come back to his parents!" Mrs. White cried in wild delight and excitement like a madwoman as she fumbled with the door's lock, adding "Dear, help me with this dang thing!"

Mr. White grimly stared at the monkey's paw in his hand. It only held one finger now, after he had made his first two wishes. Mr. White felt his forehead pour with sweat, terror seizing him like a fish on a hook. He desperately wanted to wish it away, whatever that remained of his son, but for some unknown reason, his lips refused to form the words. _They would not come out._

"Oh, never mind, I've got it!" Mrs. White's voice called from down below.

Mr. White's blood curdled when he heard the loud, creaking noise of the old door opening…then…

There was an earsplitting scream of utter horror and a great deafening crash. Something shattered.

Heart pounding, mind racing, Mr. White scrambled to the stairs and looked down. His wife was sprawled on the floor, frantically backing away from the screen door with the look of pure fear speared into her wide eyes. Mr. White followed her line of vision – and his blood stopped cold.

There standing was there Herbert, in all his mutilated, bloody glory. His flesh was horrifically torn apart everywhere and his face was unrecognizable, save for the ghastly grin on his face that would have looked sweeter and more angelic had he been alive and unharmed from his machinery accident at work. Blood covered his body like clothing, and drops of it pooled on the porch and gleamed in the sickly dim light.

Their son had come home like a good boy.


	2. Part Two

Why didn't he make the last wish? Why, in all his desperation, had he not said those magic words that would have saved him and his wife from this absolute nightmare? Everything had gone wrong from the moment Sergeant-Major Morris arrived at the house with the cursed monkey's paw. Yes, that was when everything started spiraling downhill.

What was supposed to be Herbert tried to speak, his misshapen jaw moved in a brutally distorted way as his deformed lips strove to shape words and create sounds. It came out as a savage, low hiss.

The old, wooden door crashed down with a kick and with a startled, terrified yelp, Mrs. White hobbled quickly up the stairs to join her just as horrified husband.

It was a grisly sight, even more so when their reanimated son moved, his limbs awfully disfigured and at wrong angles. Blood continued to splatter onto the floor as Herbert stepped into the house and craned his head that sat on a snapped neck, to look up at his frightened parents.

"Why?" He appeared to say through a bloody mouth, his throat convulsing as he struggled to verbalize, "Aren't…you… happy…to see… your son?"

"N-no!" Mr. White shouted with fear, "You are not our son! You are –are a hideous monster!"

Herbert stopped in his tracks. His confused eyes transformed into ones filled with raging fury.

"I'm…not…your son?" He intoned in a dead, cold voice, "I'm…a…monster?"

He began to move towards the stairs, taking slow, unsteady steps upwards towards the increasingly paranoid old couple.

"Ah-ah! He's coming! He – he'll hurt us!" Mrs. White cried, sobbing in fits of hysteria, "He's going to get us! Oh no, Herbert! This wasn't supposed to happen!"

"Move, woman!" Mr. White roared with utmost fright, shoving his wife towards the nearest room. As he glanced back at his son, he realized with disconcerting alarm that Herbert was gaining on them.

Hastily, Mr. White shut the door behind them with a loud "bang" and locked it. Then, he ordered his wife to _quick, get some heavy furniture and barricade the door!_

Hurriedly, the two carried the large, wooden cabinet over towards the door. They continued to retrieve whatever furniture – chairs, desks – to block the door.

Then, the two waited in silence, huddled behind the door in case they need to push close the door for the impending battle.

There was soft, thumping footsteps.

The door pounded at someone's fists. It grew increasingly louder and violent, shaking the door's hinges.

"Leave us alone!" Mr. White roared, "You spawn of a devil!"

The pounding ceased.

Mrs. and Mr. White shared a glance at each other. The old woman gazed at her husband with wide, panicked eyes. They looked at him questioningly.

Quietly, she leaned an ear against the door, listening intently. Only the sound of their ragged, panting breaths could be heard.

Suddenly, a knife pierced through door and skewered cleanly through Mrs. White's skull. Mr. White looked on with horror, blood coating his shirt and face. The knife slid back and Mrs. White slid down with a loud "thump." Her dead eyes stared past in a daze.

The door suddenly splintered and caved in, and Mr. White jumped back. His nerves were severely wrangled and his arms and legs felt like jelly. His heart pounded and blood roared in his ears.

_No, this can't be happening…_

Standing in the doorway was Herbert, holding in one hand a bloodied knife and in the other an ax. The heavy ax fell to the floor. The knife remained.

"St-stay back!" Mr. White threatened, though it was more of a useless statement exclaimed in fear and dread of what was to come.

His son paid no heed to his father's words as he trudged forward, pushing past the furniture while holding the knife in a menacing style.

Mr. White backed away and stumbled, falling down on his bottom. He giggled nervously. All of a sudden, he remembered – he still had the monkey's paw!

Mr. White scuttled towards the farthest corner and madly searched through his pockets as Herbert continued to loom ever closer. Mr. White never felt his heart thump so fast and deafening; he was sure the whole neighborhood could hear it pump in panic.

In a flash, Mr. White held out the monkey's paw in triumph. Now it was time for him to say the words he should have spoken, should have recited earlier. He opened his mouth just as Herbert reached him and raised the knife, preparing to stab down at him. It glinted viciously in the dim light in the impending doom.

"Begone, you monster!"

Herbert bellowed ferociously just as the knife sliced through Mr. White's ribs. He vanished abruptly. The knife clanged down on the floor.

Mr. White slid to the floor, blood trickling down his mouth and his chest.

_Too late._


	3. Part Three

Police later found the Whites' dead and viciously stabbed bodies in the barricaded room. The locked door had been kicked down, almost seemingly supernaturally. It came off the hinges completely.

The knife and the ax, the supposed murder weapons, were found right on the spot but detectives could not explain the reason behind the deaths and it was later ruled as murder-suicide. Of course, that did not justify the look of terror and horror on both their faces, or why blood was found all around the house, including on the front porch and across the lawn.

Investigators discovered the blood trail led them to Herbert White's grave, which was undisturbed. The evidence did not match up and the missing puzzles to the mystery could not be clarified.

The case closed with missing strings to the whole event.

No one knows for sure what exactly had occurred. It remained as a horrendous enigma.

Sergeant-Major Morris could only guess what lurid and morbid things had entailed.


End file.
